


Shame

by Wind12



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adopting Zuko, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confused Zuko, Custody Battle, Defensive Zuko, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Hakoda and Ozai fighting over Zuko, Inspired by Art of Burning by Hella1975, MuffinLance, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), Ozai redemption, Regret, Salvage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind12/pseuds/Wind12
Summary: Ozai has never loved anyone, and even if he had in the past, he has forgotten it. But Ozai had always demanded loyalty, and although Azula carried out his every command, he had no doubt that his daughter would betray him if it benefited her. But there was one person who had given him his undying loyalty since day one. The person who he had burned and sent away. And now he has a feeling he never had before: shame.And dammed he be if he’ll let his position as Zuko’s father be stolen by some water tribe chief. A position he didn’t deserve, but now wanted to have.
Relationships: Hakoda & Kya, Hakoda & Ozai (Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Kya’s Alive (Tag’s out now that the plot twist is revealed in chapter 3), Ozai & Zuko (Avatar), Water Tribe & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko & Kya, Zuko & The Fire Nation (Avatar)
Comments: 212
Kudos: 813
Collections: avatar tingz





	1. I will Do This No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, Okay, well this is new. Hi! so, this is my first time writing anything on this fandom site, so please don't be harsh. I have been a fan of ATLA for so many years, and I've always found it a little unrealistic that Zuko remembered that last Agni Kai for the rest of his life, but Ozai wasn't even bothered. Surely there must have been moral consequences even for a man like Ozai? But anyway, I've been wanting to write this for a while. Please forgive me if the chapter is a little short, I'm still figuring out how this whole site works. 
> 
> AND HUGE THANKS TO HELLA1975, PLEASE GO READ HER 'ART OF BURNING' where Zuko gets kidnapped by the Southern water tribe and gets pretty much adopted by Hakoda. She gave me inspiration for this, and the names of the water tribe warriors are HERS, as well as the water tribe ships. AND BEFORE I GET ATTACKED BY HER FANS, let me say, I ASKED, and she kindly let me use her characters. If she reads this and comments, I might faint from happiness.
> 
> Also, this fic has some swear words, but overall is intended for general audiences.

Zuko stared at the wooden floorboards of the water tribe ship, his body shaking and his breath short and raspy. He had failed yet again, failed at the simplest thing: to hold on to the Wani as the storm raged all around him. He had failed in listening to Uncle and just changing the course of the ship. He had failed in following the Avatar and was now once again thrown for a loop. But that was not surprising to Zuko. Father had always called him a failure, the only expectation that Zuko had ever managed to live up to. 

He heard dull voices all around him, talking about him, debating over him. Zuko was dimly aware of the shades of blue around him, of the furry coats and braided hair. He dug his nails into the wooden floor, a floor that could never be Fire Nation, a floor that would never be Earth kingdom for they had no Navy, no, a floor that could only belong to the water tribes. 

And the water tribes were his enemy. He knew he couldn’t just lay there hacking up seawater. He had to fight them, defeat them, at least, that’s what any Fire Navy soldier with even an ounce of honor would do. He gritted his teeth, feeling a hand against his jaw as his face was forced up.  
He was met with the most brilliant of blue eyes he has ever seen, cold and weary, but Zuko was no fool. Those were the eyes of a leader. The man’s brown hair was tied back in a rough trail, and a few strands were held down with some type of beads. He wore knee-high fur boots, and a blue hooded coat slung over his shoulders. The man stared down at him silently, his gaze unreadable. 

Zuko dug his nails even harder into the deck, narrowing his good eye at the water warrior. He knew very well that his eyes betrayed him, their liquid gold color displaying his nationality for all to bear witness. But he refused to hide those eyes from this man, even if Zuko knew that he must hate all firebenders. No, he will show that gold color proudly, for it was the color of his nation. 

“Chief,” He heard a strong voice behind him, “He’s fire nation. Should we just throw him overboard?” 

How bold. The water warriors must genuinely think him weak if they are so openly discussing his fate and not even considering his ability to fight back. Well, he’ll show them, he’ll show them that he is not weak and that they have committed a grave mistake by assuming that he is. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME, SAVAGE” He yelled, and smacked the man’s hand away. Before the man’s shock had a chance to melt away, Zuko scrambled back up to his feet. He was cold and wet and tired, he was a failure and a disappointment, but dammed he be if he stopped fighting. 

“I am prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, son of his Majesty Fire Lord Ozai and Lady Ursa. Brother to princess Azula and nephew to the Dragon of the West. If you want me dead, then kill me yourselves, don’t let the ocean do all the work for you, cowards.” 

He spat out his title like it was some repetitive text that he stated daily, a title that perhaps he didn’t deserve, but wanted to live up to so desperately.  
The savages stared back at him, their eyes hard as ice and cruel as the ocean. They stood all around him, their hands on their weapons and their stances prepared for battle. Their large forms loomed over him, and Zuko tried hard not to imagine the sheer muscle strength that these warriors probably have. They were strong and wild, barbarians that lived up in the poles and skinned animals with their bare hands. Zuko didn’t doubt for a second that those same hands will now want to skin him alive as well. 

But he refused to show fear. Father wouldn’t want him to. Azula would laugh at him if he did, and Uncle…uncle would pretend like it was a good thing. Like it made Zuko better, wiser, more human. But Zuko knew that it wasn’t true. Fear was a weakness, and uncle just didn’t know it. Or he did and he just didn’t want to accept it. But Zuko will accept it, and he will overcome it. 

He spat at the warriors surrounding him, sparks flying out of his mouth. Although he hadn’t realized it, he began to practice the breath of fire, trying to stay warm despite the biting cold that was seeping into his bones. He stood rigidly, forcing his body to stop shaking, to stop displaying the very obvious weakness he had against the cold environment. 

The warriors didn’t attack, they simply stood there, waiting for Zuko to collapse and die on his own. At the very least, Zuko felt it familiar. It seemed there were always people waiting for him to die. As he stood there, his mind racing and his hands shaking, he heard a voice beside him. The voice of the very man he just shoved away.  
“Prince Zuko,” He began, and Zuko blinked at him in surprise. His voice was not aggressive, it was more cautious as if he had planned his words before he said them. But then again, if Zuko’s instincts were correct, then he was the leader of this pack of savages. And a leader must always know what to say before he says it. Like Azula, like a father. 

“You are on our ship now. It will serve you well to lay down your stance, else my warriors will be forced to fight you.”  
A sudden unspoken threat passed through the air. Lay down or my warriors will kill you. Perhaps the man hadn’t said it directly, but Zuko was damn sure that’s what he meant. 

“Surrender now, Prince Zuko, and we won’t hurt you.”  
Surrender? No, a prince never surrenders. His father will never forgive him if he does. Zuko glared at him, ignoring the fact that the man was quite literary twice his size. 

“I am a prince of the Fire Nation,” Zuko repeated as if that statement will speak for itself about how beneath him surrender is. 

“You will give me death, or I will give it to myself. But either way, I will not surrender to a handful of savages.” 

It was an empty show of bravery, as much as Zuko hated to admit it. He wasn’t about to go jumping back in the water to die, but he also did not want to be killed by some water tribe warrior. He knew he shouldn’t be frightened of death; most Fire Nation soldiers would gladly slit their own throats if it meant staying loyal to their country. If those men and women were willing to do so, so should he. He was their prince for Agni’s sake! Granted, a banished prince, but still.  
The tension around him crackled like a fire, and he was very well aware that the warriors were quietly moving to block his way from the railing. They wanted to prevent his promised suicide, which in Zuko’s mind he was terrified of committing anyway. But if he had to…. if he truly had to, he will.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the leader staring at him, or more specifically at his mouth. He was watching as flames flickered between Zuko’s lips, which were pale and blue from being out in the cold. 

He glared right back, pointedly increasing his breath of fire. He won’t give up, he will fight.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Tui and La, the kid was terrified.  
If Hakoda knew that today was the day he would pull a Fire nation prince out of the ocean, he probably would have never gotten out of his hammock. But now, as he looked at the shaking, tiny form of a human being, eyes wide and hands trembling, he knew his role as chief was driven into a corner. 

It was almost impossible to believe that the boy was who he said he was, seeing as how soaked and tired he appeared. He was half the size of anyone on board, even Tomkin, who was supposed to be the youngest warrior amongst them. The boy’s hair was tied back into a raggedy ponytail, and his grey shirt clung messily to his skinny frame. A large scar marred half of his face, condemning his left eye to an eternal scowl. His right eye was opened wide, panic and determination mixing together in a wild combination. 

But still, he noticed the way the boy held his shoulders back, his chin up, his stance practiced and solidified. And Hakoda most certainly did not miss the way he so readily voiced his title, how his loyalty was almost palpable as it rolled off his tongue. It was if the boy was proud to be the prince of murders and liars.  
But then again, he was Ozai’s son. The son of the greatest tyrant this world ever had. 

And yet, he was a child. A teenager yes, but if he wasn’t old enough to be a man, he was a child. A frightened, cornered kid who was spitting flames to appear stronger. Who threatened to jump the rail if his warriors didn’t kill him first.  
Hakoda cursed silently, feeling just as cornered as the prince did. The panic on the boy’s face was evident, and Hakoda was sure that if he made one wrong move then there would be flames going everywhere. And flames on a wooden ship were certainly not something he could allow.  
Trying to keep a calm tone he fruitlessly tried again, this time attempting a different approach. Yes, he was a Fire Nation royal, but surely he was still human? 

“Prince Zuko, you’re tired.”


	2. Why is being honoroble so hard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here is chapter 2!   
> I know some of you have been asking for the timeline of this fic, and the answer is that it takes place two and a half years after Zuko's banishment. He is fifteen, (As he was 16 when the Avatar appeared), and Azula is thirteen. It is a half-year before the Aang is found, which will be relevant to the story later. 
> 
> And yes, as some of you have informed me, I did put the original tag as Hakoda/Ozai, which I didn't know before, but apparently suggested a romantic relationship? I'm very new to this whole Archive site, so please understand that this entire fine tone etiquette involving tags is a little confusing. 
> 
> If you have any tag suggestions, please comment them down below, as well as any advice you might seem fit. I will be quite grateful for it. 
> 
> And thank you for over 500 hits in just one day, you guys are the best.

“Prince Zuko, you’re tired.” 

Zuko stopped his eye widening in shock. What type of mind game was this? He expected the man to lose his demeanor, or command his warriors to simply force Zuko into submission. Instead, it was as if the man didn’t even deem him worthwhile of a proper capture! 

It was insulting, really, that the water tribe leader would choose such a weak strategy. At least Azula put in the effort when she was coaxing him, always thinking up new ways with which to play with him. 

She lied, she laughed, she made fun of him for every little thing he had messed up on. She would always shame him for not getting a form right, always berating him for his incompetence, and say that he shouldn’t even be surprised when his father yelled at him.   
If she wanted something from him, she’d simply take it. If she wanted him to do something, she’d manipulate him. Which, in itself, was quite impressive considering that she was only ten at the time. 

But this? What type of sly manipulation was this nonsense? 

He bristled, backing away from where the man stood.   
“I’M NOT TIRED,” he snapped, breaking off as he realized how whiny he must have sounded. He glared irritably at his outstretched hands, cursing their endless shaking. 

“I’m not tired,” he repeated, desperately trying to sound even a little bit like a prince. 

He glanced up at the large warriors surrounding him, their faces looking rather unimpressed with his remarks. Their leader looked down on him, not a shred of fear or wariness in his eyes. Zuko scowled, hating the fact that he was so helpless and outnumbered, his enemies not even bothering to consider him as a real challenge.   
He knew he couldn’t fight all of them off; he didn’t have his Dao and his fire bending was barely enough to keep his breath going. He was exhausted beyond words, his sheer adrenaline the only thing keeping him awake. He needed a way to escape from these savages, he needed leverage against all the odds that they already have stacked against him. 

What would Azula do? 

What would father do? 

They would lie.

Lying seemed to get them places. At the very least, it seemed to keep them alive.   
But Zuko has never lied before. And even when he did, Azula always caught it. He just wasn’t good at it. He wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t as sharp-witted and quick-tongued as his sister was. But surely he could try? These were water savages, who knew not the first thing about what Zuko could and couldn’t do. They wouldn’t be able to call him out on his blatant bluff. Would they? Uncle always said that underestimating your enemies was a grave mistake, but overestimating them could also cost Zuko an escape opportunity. 

Decisions, decisions, and Zuko were never good at making them. 

“STAY BACK, or—or I’ll burn down your ship!” 

He smiled, trying to appear as though he was truly considering it. Azula always smiled when she lied, it made her look confident, deadly, unpredictable. Traits that his father loved.   
Of course, he would never actually set this vessel on fire, because then he’d be sawing the branch he sat on. He’d kill himself and the water tribe men, which if Zuko was being honest, he didn’t want to do. 

They hadn’t done anything to him, at least not yet, but he still didn’t want to cause any death if it could be avoided. Inwardly, he knew it was dishonorable to worry about his enemy’s life, any other Fire Nation soldier would not. Father would definitely not want him to, and Azula would probably collapse on the floor laughing if he even suggested it. 

‘Oh Zuzu,” her voice echoed in his head, ‘You’re so funny…they are just savages. What does it matter if they lived or died? Not a single breath that they take contribute to the greatness of our nation.” 

Zuko shook his head, once again reminding himself of his cruel banishment. He was dishonorable, he was weak, and so he had no place in in the Fire Nation. But he will make himself a place, he will return, and if all he had to do was be like Azula, then he will force himself to change.   
He’ll become what his father likes. 

His willed his hands to ignite in flames, evoking shock in the warriors’ features. They all simultaneously flinched back, not expecting him to bend fire so arbitrarily.   
Zuko felt a tinge of satisfaction as he looked at their off guarded faces, complacent with the fact that he finally appeared dangerous to them.   
At last, he had their attention, their concern. 

He growled as he sliced an arc of blazing flames at the biggest warrior, jumping back as the others sprang into action. Zuko knew he couldn’t set the ship on fire, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t burn these savages.   
The man who previously spoke to him dodged the spur of flames; his face momentarily illuminated by the bright sparks as they flew past his flesh. His heavy steps echoed against the wood as he rushed at Zuko full force, his sole purpose set on ending the fight as quickly as possible.   
He grabbed for Zuko’s wrist, yanking his hand away from the direction of his warriors. Zuko hissed in retaliation, glaring daggers as he pointedly set his entire arm ablaze. The man’s eyes widened as the palm with which he held the prince’s wrist smoked, and he recoiled back with a scream.   
The fire around Zuko’s arm diminished, and he wobbled unsteadily as his energy gave way. He had never actually tried setting one of his own limbs on fire before, and quite frankly it terrified him. 

He watched as the savage gripped his own hand, the flesh on it red and swelling from the impact of the burn.

“I—I,” Zuko stuttered, 

But his words were cut short as he was bowled over by a lean figure, its furry coat and gloved hands struggling to pin him down. Zuko withered violently, glowering relentlessly at his attacker. 

The young man was staring right back at him, his blue eyes full of vigorous determination. His face was soft and his jaw sharp; and his silky brown hair fell over in loose bangs. His tan skin did not own a single scratch or scar, making it seem as though he had never fought in his entire life. 

He looked so…. untouched.

Zuko didn’t even know how else to describe it. His eyes were just void of any trace of past violence. Instead, they gleamed with some sort of childlike mischief, something that perhaps did not quite fit among all the battle-hardened men. 

What was he even doing on this ship? In this war? He shouldn’t be here; he’d get broken if he stayed. 

Zuko shook his head and willed himself out of his stupor. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if this savage was of any concern to him. He was just an obstacle in Zuko’s way, a barrier between himself and potential freedom. He huffed and gathered all the strength he had, shoving his feet against the other’s stomach, throwing him back across the deck.

As the young warrior’s body slammed against the mast, Zuko didn’t waste any time with pouncing right back on top of him. He gripped the warrior’s throat, feeling his warm skin and rapid pulse as at it beat against his hand. Zuko held the warrior’s head down, his hand latching on tighter around the other’s only way of breathing. The young man struggled with the prince’s rigid form, trying in vain to free himself. 

Zuko raised his free hand and engulfed it in a brilliant hot fire, its ambers crackling mercilessly as they waited for their master’s anger.  
Fear, real fear flooded into the warrior’s gaze, and Zuko could see his eyes getting damp with tears.   
Zuko knew that the warrior wouldn’t beg. Zuko had already cut away his breath, and he will cut away his life now too.   
His blazing hand shook. He could end this warrior, end his life. Azula would have already done so, and father would have done it in the most extravagant way possible. But why was he, the prince of the Fire Nation, son of Ozai, hesitating over some savage?

So young, so new, a warrior that wasn’t even a bender.

So terrified.

Was this how the young men of the Forty-first division felt? Young men and women who were just recruited, not yet knowing what it was like to fight, to kill, to battle with every ounce of grit one had. Not knowing the meaning of war, the hunger for power.

Young soldiers who were simply used and disposed of, all in favor of some general’s plan to win a few acres of soil. A general that wasn’t even anywhere near the battlefront, in fact, a general that sat nicely and comfortably in the Fire Nation capital while the division died one by one.

Surely they must have been just as scared, looking death in the eye but knowing they couldn’t escape it?  
No wonder his father called him weak; called him dishonorable. 

He was a prince, and yet he couldn’t kill for the sake of his country.   
Zuko’s grip shook and his fire wavered, the flames abating as his anger started to fade. 

Hot shame burned through him, and with one final clench of his fist, all his fire died out. 

Why couldn’t he just be honorable like his father? 

Why, out of his entire family, did he have to be the flawed one? 

“I can’t—” 

His adrenaline gone, he collapsed on the floor, no longer caring if the savages killed him. 

Hakoda stared in horror as the prince’s eyes blazed with fury, his palms ignited in a brilliant hot flame.   
He will kill Tomkin, the youngest one. He will burn him to death, and Hakoda will be forced to watch all of it.   
He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t even hold his weapon because the damn ash maker scorched his dominant hand. 

But as he watched, as all of them watched, frozen in terror, the prince just…stopped. 

He let his fire go out, even though he had the perfect opportunity.   
The prince dropped, unconscious, besides Tomkin, who still had not a scratch on his face.   
Tomkin lay there, panting, hand on his throat and staring at the sky, praising the spirits. 

“Tom!” He looked up to see the other warriors surrounding him, with Hakoda being the first to help him to his feet. 

“Chief,” Tomkin began, his eyes wild with shock and his voice shaking. 

“That fire bender almost killed me.” 

“I know, I know,” Hakoda empathized, trying to calm him down gently. 

“No, you don’t understand,” Tomkin breathed, “He looked me right in the eye, and he didn’t kill me. He wanted to; I saw that he wanted to…and he was going to do it…” 

“But then he told me he couldn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the first comment on my first chapter, Firegod! You really made me almost tear up. Chapter 3 might be out by Saturday or Sunday.


	3. Loyalty can be different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, let me just say that I purposefully avoided including a tag in favor of surprising you all with a major plot twist. 
> 
> Will you guys like it? Hate it? I don't know! 
> 
> But I will include that tag after this chapter, just for the sake of it. 
> 
> ENJOY!!!!!

It was hot and empty, a courtroom floor that seemed to spread around for miles, its brazen tiles reflecting his own statue as he stood on them.  
Ozai breathed out a sweltering sigh, knowing full well where this dream was going. 

His skin was glistening with sweat, as there were large flames blazing all around him. He stood there, knowing full well that he will not awake until this is over. There was no escaping this, not during the day nor during the night. 

Then he saw it, the very scene that he has caused two years ago, his own dream-possessed body moving forward to reenact it.  
Not this again, He thought irritably, trying to shove aside the impending guilt that was sure to follow in a few seconds.  
His thirteen-year-old son, on the floor, begging.

Small, scared, defenseless. 

Nothing but entertainment for the crowd that was gathering at the edge of Ozai’s vision. 

He saw Azula nearby, her ten-year-old gaze far, far too similar to his own, full of cruelty and smug complacence.  
The cruelty that technically shouldn’t be in a small child’s eyes. 

But it was there, and Ozai couldn’t decide whether he should be proud or terrified. 

He tensed in his sleep as he saw his hand reach towards Zuko’s face. 

He held it, and then, he burnt it. 

Screaming filled his senses as he jerked awake, bolting upright in his bed.

Goddammit.

How much longer must he endure this?

He was the Fire Lord, he had power over his lands, over his armies, over his people. He could control every man and soldier in his country, and yet here he was, completely powerless to stop some meager nightmare.  
His long black hair slipped over his shoulders, and a few strands fell over his wolfish gold eyes. The crimson sheets fell loosely over his body, slightly damp from the sweat that the nightmare produced.  
He cursed under his breath, flopping back onto the mattress. 

He thought back to Azula, how her eyes gleamed with a hunger that admittedly, wouldn’t have been there if Ozai had not taught it to her.  
On one hand, he knew that that hunger would serve her well when she would lead the Fire Nation after him, but on the other….  
He raised his right hand, the one which he used to do the deed. 

It was the same as it was before, unlike Zuko’s face, which was probably scarred beyond recognition.  
He didn't even see the scar that he had made, Zuko had been sent away long before it could even be unbandaged.  
He doesn’t know how his son looks right now. Not that he ever cared much to dwell on it, but based on the descriptions Azula had dropped occasionally, it wasn’t hard to imagine. 

He vaguely remembered the time she was gloating about some way she outsmarted her brother, her smile widening with every word she said.

‘Oh father, you should have seen his face!’ She snorted, “I mean, not there is much of a face to talk about, but still…”  
It was amusing, but in a way, disheartening. 

If she had the cruelty to enjoy watching her own brother burn, then what in Agni’s name did she think of her own father?  
Ozai always felt uncomfortable when he pondered that subject, but with it being the middle of the night, there was no escaping it.  
He knew Azula was cruel. 

She was cold, power-hungry, and could stoop to the lowest levels to get what she wants.  
She will never admit it, but Ozai knows she fantasizes about ruling their country one day. She sees it as a mere obligation to follow her father while he was Fire Lord, neither loving or admiring him.  
In a way, Ozai knows that she is quite simply using him. 

He could provide anything for her. Ships, men, soldiers, equipment, training. He gives her anything and everything, enabling her to fulfill whatever power-driven motivations she might have. 

She wants to rule everything, own everything, and control everyone.  
Ozai saw a lot of himself in her, which was perhaps the reason why he liked her so much. 

It was like looking in a mirror.  
But it as also like looking at your replacement. 

Ozai remembered longing for the throne. He flashed back to the time when he was younger; when Sozin was still alive and Iroh was still in Ba Sing Se. He had felt nothing but impatience and frustration at his own father, counting down the days till he passed away. 

Was Azula doing the same? 

Ozai groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
He was not a fool; he wouldn’t just lay there and pretend as if it wasn’t a likely option.  
Ozai had craved his father’s death.

And Ozai had mentored Azula.  
What outcome did he really expect?

He reluctantly thought back to Zuko, how the little runt always ran around, trying to please him.  
He didn’t do it the way Azula did, no, he was more honest.  
Honest in a way that always made him look gullible and naïve.  
He never tried to please Ozai in a cruel way, such as lashing out at the servants or complaining about his peers. He just tried his best at anything Ozai told him to do, and then he just…. hoped for the best.  
And when his son clearly did not want to do something, he did not do it. No matter how many times he got punished for it, he continued with whatever strange morality Ursa had drilled into him. Which in itself, was quite impressive. 

Would Azula tick to something regardless of what the consequences might be? No, she is like a cunning fox; choosing only the options that benefit her and changing sides and opinions when she needs to. 

Ozai remembered the savage water tribe slave that Zuko always managed to share his presence with. 

She was a boring, uncultured thing, with foreign blue eyes and long brown hair. She was taken during one of the Southern raids, believed to be the last waterbender that the South pole had owned. 

As Ozai faintly remembered in one of his general’s reports, she was the only one who had survived the Fire Nation water prisons. 

Everyone knew that benders had a special connection to their element, and so those specific water prisons were designed to keep all moonlight blocked from view. Many of those Southern benders lost their sanity within only a few weeks, dying slow and painful deaths.  
When it was apparent that one of the savages survived, the guards immediately singled her out to not be a bender.  
She was sent here to Caldera, as a water savage slave. 

Zuko, being the soft-hearted fool that he was, took to her like a fish to water. Especially after Ursa had left. So much so, that it was almost considered common knowledge that the savage belonged to the prince. 

Azula wouldn’t have been so kind. 

In fact, she never was, and just because she knew that Zuko liked Kya, she took every opportunity to make the water woman’s life difficult.  
Ozai doesn’t particularly know or care, as to what happened to the woman after Zuko had been banished, but he guessed that she was dragged with him into the banishment. 

How dishonorable, that a prince of the Fire Nation should even spare a glance at a dirty Southern non-bender. 

Ozai sighed, his head hurting from the lack of sleep that this week had deprived him of. 

Although contrary to what Azula or his brother might think, he never derived any actual joy from burning Zuko.  
He felt smug and complacent, yes, but he wasn’t happy per se….

But he also wasn’t going to admit that he felt guilty either. 

But still, even though his son did not fit Ozai’s preference, he was still loyal; sending letters to the royal palace every single week.  
Ozai never bothered to respond, but it never seemed to discourage Zuko from writing. 

Unlike Azula, he was hopeful, even though Ozai never gave him much reason to be. He was loyal, even though no one cared to see the worth in him. He was different from Azula, in a way that Ozai wasn’t sure he liked.

And yet, a small glimmer of treacherous regret skimmed through his mind.

He wanted to know where Zuko was. 

He needed to know what he was doing. 

He wanted him back.

Perhaps not right away…and it wasn’t as if he was going to beg Zuko to return…but he wanted him to come back. 

Maybe it was time to answer his son’s letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY MY MY HOW THE PLOT THICKENS.  
> KYA'S ALIVE
> 
> Thank you guys for all the kudos, comments, and support! You guys are the best.  
> The next chapter will be out Thursday or Friday.


	4. Crying in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the backstory of how Kya met Zuko.   
> There will be breaks between the main plot where Kya's role in Zuko's life is explored, which I think will be quite exciting. Hope you guys enjoy it! And thank you for all your lovely comments and support. Rest assured, I DO read them, and I get notifications when one of you comments something. It's just that I'm regularly busy, so I can't respond right away. I get so guilty whenever I see a notification but I can't reply right away. So please don't feel like I don't appreciate you! I love you guys!

Kya was weeping silently on the floor of her metal cage, its steel surface cold and hard against her palms.

She had watched all her brothers and sisters die in cages of their own, slowly losing their sanity till they couldn’t bear it any longer.  
They had killed themselves; in ways that were far too gruesome for Kya to have looked at. So she didn’t, she looked away, and as such never actually witnessed how they had done it. 

But it was easy to guess, it always was. Blood on the steel bars, blood on their skulls. Blood on the floor. 

Their bodies lay there, for hours, until the guards changed shifts and noticed a dead waterbender bleeding their head out. 

They dragged them out, Tui knows where, and then didn’t even bother to clean out the cage. The blood dried, hardened, still in the same splatter pattern as when its owner had passed away. 

She couldn’t imagine little Katara committing such a monstrosity against herself. At the very least, Kya was relieved that she was stuck in this prison instead of her.   
But that relief did not last long; no, it never lasted.

She was treated horribly every single day, and the guards sometimes forgot to feed the prisoners during their shifts.   
Either that or they simply did not care. Given how well trained and disciplined Fire Nation soldiers could be, it was difficult to imagine that they would simply forget one of their duties. But it happened, and it happened so painfully often. 

Kya would always console herself with the thoughts of home; of her loving husband and her two poor children that she had left behind.   
Poor little Katara, so alone, so scared, doomed to grow up without a mother. And what about Sokka? How would he sleep without Kya’s bedtime stories to listen to? Who would cook dinner for him and Hakoda when they returned, tired, from a hunt? 

Who would tend the igloo, watch the village kids, help the elders? Kya knew others could do those village chores, but she enjoyed doing them herself.

And now she would never do them again.  
She would never embrace Hakoda, kiss him goodbye, kiss her son and daughter goodbye.   
How terribly cruel the Fire nation was. They took her away from her home, her family, her tribe.

And now she was the last one, sitting in the prison, and the guards had yet again forgotten to feed her.   
Oh well, if she weren’t brave enough to commit self-death, then at least she would be relieved of this pain by starvation. There was no hope of survival anyway, she might as well die. Perhaps as a spirit, she would be able to travel back home. 

Dimly, she heard voices from afar; a pair of guards who were too lazy to patrol the premises of the prison.   
Why should they? She was the only one here, not like she posed any real threat. 

She quickly wiped away her tears, trying desperately to stifle her sobs. It would do her no good if the guards heard her crying; else they would take offense and beat her again.   
She carefully tuned in on what they were saying, if for not any other reason but to get her mind off of her village. 

“That last she-savage isn’t a water bender, huh?” One of the guards scoffed, picking at his dirty nails. 

“yeah,” The other said, letting out a lazy sigh.

“I don’t see what’s the point of keeping her,” The first one wined, “It would have been much easier to just you know,” 

He gestured to his throat, imitating a slitting motion. 

“I know right?” the second one replied, “Then we could all just go back to the main base and get some more exciting tasks.”

“I heard she was going to be taken to the Fire Nation palace tomorrow,” The first one snickered enthusiastically, “Wonder if it's for some commander’s delight?” 

Kya stiffened in horror, gripping the sides of her arms to stop them from shaking. 

“Really? A water savage?” 

“Yeah yeah,” The first one nodded, “I personally wouldn’t take a savage, but who knows? Maybe the commander is trying to diversify his exotic goods…” 

They laughed, and Kya shivered, putting her head down on her lap. 

“Eh, she’s not even that pretty. Now the girls on the east wing, oh they are spicier than fire flakes!” 

Kya clenched the edge of her dress, which was not so much as a dress as it was some flimsy Fire Nation rag. 

She was appalled at taking her own life before, but now it was a tempting option. She would rather die than cater to some Palace coward, which in itself would be a betrayal to both Hakoda and her people. 

But she was terrified of dying and terrified of leaving. If only she could go home.   
She cried till she couldn’t anymore, till all the guards left and the room was in complete darkness.   
Was it night? Was it day? She couldn’t even tell because all the windows were blocked out. All she knew was that she had mere hours before she met the final page of her story, bound to a Nation that she hated with her whole being. 

She was transported to the Fire Nation capital, by herself, and forced into another cage. 

It happened quickly, efficiently, as though the guards suddenly snapped out of their lazy haze and became the most dutiful soldiers in the entire prison.   
They did not speak to her, or about her, instead, they treated her like a simple package, shipping her out to be delivered to some random man. 

It all came and passed in a blur, and she was once again sitting in a random dark room, in a yet smaller cage space.  
Except this time, they didn’t even bother giving her water. 

She was sitting with her back towards the room’s door, facing the wall with her ever-growing sadness. She felt like an abandoned animal; abused, alone, and caged.   
Denied any attention or care.   
Ignored unless she was deemed irritating.  
Useful for just beatings and hateful comments. 

Suddenly, the door cracked open and a small sliver of light shone through. Kya tensed, ready for whatever snarky remark the entering soldier would make at her. 

“Hello?” A young voice echoed into the room, and Kya flinched in surprise. 

It was a child’s voice. 

She heard light footsteps coming closer, stopping every once in a while in hesitance. A cautious tap vibrated off of one of her steel bars, and she looked around at the young boy standing behind her.

He yelped and jumped back, stumbling down onto the floor. His gold eyes opened wide, and he gaped at her like a fish out of water. He looked to be around ten, with his black hair tied back into a short ponytail, and his clothes reflecting the rich lifestyle he must have had.   
The boy blinked at her awkwardly and sat up with his feet crisscrossing.

“Hi,” he said shyly, and Kya almost laughed. 

Couldn’t the boy see that she was caged and mangled? Wasn’t he scared of her raggedy, savage like appearance? 

“My name’s Zuko,” He smiled, “What’s yours?” 

Well, she had nothing else to do. She was trapped and starving and had no way of escaping from this child’s curiosity. She might as well talk to him. At least, it should help her from not thinking about her impending future. 

“Kya,” she rasped out, but she didn’t turn around to face him. She didn’t have the strength for movement right now, and even if she did she wasn’t sure how the boy would react. 

He could be just like all the rest of the fire benders, raised to look down on inferiors, and berate the weakest of society. If she would say or do one wrong thing, he might get offended and run off to complain about her to his superiors. 

“That’s a very pretty name,” He responded, and a light blush covered his cheeks. 

A moment of silence passed, in which Kya wasn’t sure whether the boy was waiting for her to say something or not. 

“Nobody fed you today, did they?” His voice was quiet and innocent, not yet deepened with age.

“I know because I didn’t see anybody come in here, and this room only had one front door…” 

He fidgeted, and Kya could see that he clearly wanted some sort of reply. 

“No,” She answered, and he sighed. 

“I’ll get you something,” He mumbled, “What do you like?” 

What did she like? Kya scoffed, and the boy flinched away. No one in the prison had asked what she liked, and no one had even cared. She was a water savage, an animal compared to the cultured citizens of the Fire Nation. Would the boy had bothered to ask her what she wanted if he knew she was from a water tribe? 

“I’m from the South pole,” she said, hoping that the boy would get the hint and catch on to the difference between their ranks. 

She didn’t even know why she told him that, she could have just told him that she didn’t care what she ate, as long as he brought her something. Was he going to be disgusted now and run away? Did she just sabotage her chance at getting food?  
The boy nodded eagerly.

“So you like fish? Okay, hold on I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere!” 

He quickly got up and skidded away, closing the door behind him. 

Kya smiled bitterly. As if she could even go anywhere. She was trapped like a rat in a trap, except the rats get killed when they get captured. She on the other hand, will be tortured for the rest of her existence. 

She waited for perhaps half an hour when she heard the door open once again. A clatter of glass and ceramics followed suit, and she turned around in shock to see that the boy came back. 

He sat down on the floor and pushed a plate through the bars, along with a mug of tea and a jug full of water. How the boy got away with carrying all those things without falling was beyond Kya, but what he brought was astounding in itself. 

Fish, as he promised, topped with spices and veggies, with a pair of chopsticks speared into the meat. A spicy aroma filled the air, and Kya’s stomach growled in anticipation.

He looked at her sheepishly, a small drop of sweat glistening on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to bring a fork, but there were only chopsticks…” 

“A-and I didn’t know what flavor of tea you liked, so I brought Uncle’s favorite. He always says that it is the most delicious one. Also, I won’t be here for the night, so I thought you’d need the water.” 

He fidgeted with his hands, unsure of what to say next. 

“Anyway, I have to go now, bye!” 

Once again he ran off, but this time Kya saw embarrassment in his eyes, which Kya didn’t blame him for.   
She wanted to thank him, but he was out the door within seconds, his little feet shuffling away as fast as they could.   
She smiled slightly, wondering if she’ll ever see him again. 

It had been a couple of weeks since Kya was brought to Caldera, and every single day the little boy showed up.   
He’d bring her meals, drinks, and he even once brought in a comb to brush out Kya’s hair with. 

He never had much time to stay, but when he did, Kya would carefully tell him of the South pole, of her village, of her family and friends back home. She had expected the young Fire Nation child to laugh at all the savagery of her tribe, but instead, he listened eagerly, always awaiting more stories. 

“Is it true that the South Pole is all covered in snow? I’ve never seen snow.” 

“Yes,” she replied, “It’s so cold and soft, and it would make crunching noises whenever you stepped on it.” 

Their talks have always been quite nice, even though Kya would never have admitted to enjoying her time with a Fire bender.   
At least, it was nice until one day the little boy did not show up. When she heard the door open, she was fully looking forward to seeing him. Instead, she saw two guards, fully armored and weapons ready. 

That was when she realized that her final time has come. 

I familiar fear pulsed through her, a fear that she had felt the night when she found out about the Fire Nation commander.   
She knew that she will never see the boy again. 

She was taken to a washroom, where she was scrubbed squeaky clean by other women who served in the palace. They didn’t look at her twice, nor did they bother to strike up a conversation. They simply told her what to do and where to turn, and then gave her servant’s clothes to wear. 

Then she was dragged into a room, a royal looking room, with curtains and rich bed sheets and crimson rugs. 

A boy sat on the bed in the middle of the room, looking up when he saw Kya being pushed in through the door. Kya gulped, recognition hitting her like a tsunami.   
The servant who brought her there bowed deeply, growling at Kya to do the same. 

She obeyed but stared at the floor in silent confusion. Why were they bowing to a child? 

“Prince Zuko,” the servant began, and Kya’s mouth dried in shock. 

“Your father’s gift, the water savage, is at your service.”

Kya started to shake but forced herself to stop. How could this be? The boy who had been visiting her for days was a prince?

Oh, Tui and La. 

He was Ozai’s son.

The Fire Lord’s son. 

The prince of the Fire Nation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL WELL WELL I wonder what Hakoda would think when he finds out that Kya's alive. Food for thought huh?   
> Anyway, I will update again tomorrow or Saturday, instead of waiting for half a week like a usually do. Why? Well because I'm excited for where this fic will go, and I just can't wait to share it with you! And also because I have a little bit more time to write tomorrow. Thanks for almost 3,000 hits!


	5. The Chief's Bluntness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the short chapter. I'm currently planning out chapters six and seven, which would be longer than all the previous ones I've posted. I usually post once every half a week or so, but because the next one is so long, you can expect chapter six to come out this Friday or Saturday. So technically almost a full week.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

“Azula, please,” Zuko mumbled, as he watched his sister give him a disgusted glare. 

“Father will listen to you, I’m sure,” He continued, grabbing for Azula’s sleeve.

She scoffed, her wide gold eyes turning into a pitying color. 

“I didn’t know you liked savages, Zuzu. We have plenty of other servants, whatever do you need the uncivilized one for?” 

“She’s not uncivilized! She’s nice, and if we don’t do something, commander Faugway will have her.” 

Azula yanked her hand out of Zuko’s grasp and folded her arms across her chest indignantly. 

“Azula, please tell father that Kya should be mine. I’ll do anything.” 

Azula’s eyes gleamed with a newfound interest. 

“Anything?” 

“Yes,” Zuko said, refusing to back down. 

“Well,” She giggled, “I do like having you in my debt. Fine then, I’ll tell him. But be careful Zuzu, I’ll hold you to that promise later.” 

Zuko bolted up in his bed, his black hair tangled and his muscles aching. The image of Azula’s gold eyes burned in his mind, and he quickly forced that sight out of his head. 

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to look up at his prison. 

He saw a room made with wooden walls and a wooden floor, with not a single Fire Nation flag in sight.   
Animal pelts were in every direction that Zuko glanced, and blue fabrics and white clothes were scattered around the floor. A desk stood beside his bed, on which a few open books and misplaced pens were carelessly left unorganized. 

He looked down at his bed, which was swelling with furs and grey sheets. An oversized shirt was tugged onto Zuko’s small frame, as well as pants that surely were twice as long as his short legs.

Well shit.

The events of last night flooded into Zuko’s mind, and he instantly tensed up. Was it even last night? Or was it a week ago? He didn’t even know. All he knew was that he was trapped in the heart of the enemy territory, completely vulnerable. 

Zuko huffed an irritated sigh, clenching the sheets as tightly as possible.   
He was on the water Tribe ship. 

Which, in itself, was not something Zuko was prepared to wake up to.

He should have been dead now, dead as can be and floating at the bottom of the ocean. Those savages should have killed him, they should have murdered him as soon as he passed out and thrown his cold dead body overboard. 

Why in Agni’s name did they not do it?

He tried to kill one of their warriors, he injured their chief, and almost set fire to their ship.

What was that saying Uncle always skimmed over? 

An eye for an eye?  
A tooth for a tooth?  
Something along those lines, yes. 

They should have hurt him in some way. At least, the chief should have tried to. Of all the people on this ship, he was the one damaged by Zuko the most.   
And yet, he kept him alive. Now he was a prisoner. 

Zuko groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

What a dishonorable way to lose a battle. 

Not only could he not manage to kill the enemy, but he was denied the smallest glimmer of dignity to die for his country. 

To die for his father.   
Yes, his father. 

Oh, he would be so disappointed if he found out that his son got captured in the most disgraceful way possible.  
He wasn’t even hurt! He wasn’t even wounded! He didn’t go down bleeding, he went down because he was too weak and simply passed out. 

Father would laugh at him if he knew. 

The prince of the Fire Nation; alive and well and at the mercy of water savages. No, he couldn’t disgrace his father’s legacy like this.   
He must fix this. 

He shoved the blankets away violently, leaping out of bed as if his back were on fire. Growling, he stormed out of his small prison space, which in his bashfulness, he didn’t even notice was not locked. 

He bolted into the hallway, his body slamming hard against another man.

He hissed, cursing whatever cruel obstacle Agni has placed against him once again. 

He looked up, seeing the chief’s surprised face staring back at him. 

The chief glanced down at his draping clothes, and the overly long sleeves as they drooped well below his fingertips. The ridiculous clothes, paired with the prince’s ever-scowling face, tugged at the man’s lips, and a small snort of amusement escaped his throat. 

Zuko glared at him, his eye narrowing in anger.

“You think this is funny?!” He snapped, setting himself into a fighting stance. 

“What the hell didn’t you kill me for? Do you want to humiliate me for loosing to you? Well great job, you accomplished that! Now kill me, murder me, drown me.”   
The chief stared down at him in silent shock, the previous amusement was now completely gone, giving way to eerie confusion. 

“You think being alive, is humiliating?” 

He cocked his head to the side. 

“What kind of immoral Fire Nation standard is this?” 

Zuko bristled, taking a small step back. Why was the chief acting as if his words were the most deranged things ever? It was not as if he was behaving unreasonably, he was simply following basic principle. Which was more than what he could say for the Water tribesmen, who were quite literally refusing him an honorable death.   
Regardless, he did not want to stand there and explain himself to this man. He didn’t want to explain the basic standards of loyalty that the chief would not understand anyway. 

“To live in captivity is a dishonor,” he stated simply, “I already said before that if you won’t kill me that I will kill myself, but either way I will not disgrace my father by not dying a worthy death.” 

The chief’s brows furrowed, and he took a purposeful stride forward. 

Zuko hissed in retaliation, stopping the chief in his tracks.

Tension crackled in the air, and Zuko could almost taste the blatant silence as it threatened to consume them. 

“Don’t you see?” he spat, “How I’m shaming my father’s name by being here, with you, with your savages? Don’t you see the weakness I display by not being able to kill? Can’t you at least see that?” 

Neither said anything. 

The chief did not say anything. 

Zuko clamped his mouth shut and refused to explain himself any further.

Suddenly, the Water tribe savage spoke up.

“So…you want to die, just to spare your father some embarrassment?”


	6. Playing with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I said I'll update Saturday, but I was too excited for this chapter and didn't want you guys to get angsty! IDK, at this point, I don't think you guys should trust me when I name a day on which I update. I just can't keep a writing schedule, what can I possibly say?  
> I don't know when I will update next because even if I will put a date, you all will already know it would either be early or late. So IDK, maybe by Monday or Tuesday.  
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

Bato always said that Hakoda wasn’t good with words. 

He always said that Hakoda was too blunt and too brash. That was why Bato always insisted on going to war meetings alongside him; to keep him in check. 

But Bato wasn’t here now, he was injured and left behind with the nuns.  
He wasn’t here to tell Hakoda when to stop talking, or when to stop pressing. 

And now he was overstepping boundaries with a Fire Nation prince. 

“So…you want to die, just to spare your father some embarrassment?” 

Bato would have slapped him at the back of the head if he were here. 

But Hakoda didn’t care.

Since the moment he left his home, Hakoda has started learning many things about different people. He knew most etiquettes of the Earth Kingdom, some titles of the Fire Nation Army, and the patriarchy laws of the Northern water tribe.  
He was forced to learn different formalities and forms of writing, and all the new ways to greet people of various backgrounds. 

But even with all the new information he’s learned, he had never in his entire life heard of Fire Nation people being so eager to die.  
True, he knows they are extremely loyal to their superiors and have a strict chain of command, but besides that, he knows practically nothing.

The kid was probably in his early teens, still young and inexperienced with life. And yet, here he was, trying to end himself because of some outrageous custom of the Fire Nation.

At least, that’s the only explanation that Hakoda could think of. Perhaps the kid was a soldier or an apprentice to a master of some sort. Maybe the concepts of such violent and ‘loyal’ things were taught to him and now he considered them normal.

But who the hell teaches a child to pick death over dishonor? 

But then again, there were many kinds of dishonor. Personally, Hakoda never thought that being trapped in his company was that bad, but the kid seemed to hate it. Was being held prisoner really that much of a burden on Fire Nation pride? Or was he missing something?  
The tiny prince was so fervent in his earlier statements, that it almost seemed as though he rehearsed them daily. He spoke quickly, sharply, breathlessly. In all honestly, Hakoda almost missed half the things he was saying.  
However, he did catch one word that stood out among all the other he’d ranted about. 

‘Father’.

Hakoda wouldn’t have thought twice about it if he were with someone else, but this was the Fire prince. Son of Ozai, the Fire Lord. The person who caused all the misery and loss in Hakoda’s life and many others.

A tyrant, a killer, a monster in kids’ story tales.

That was the person this little prince called his father. 

He said that by being alive with the Water tribe warriors, he was shaming his father. What kind of man would find shame in his son’s life being spared by the enemy?  
Granted, Hakoda didn’t have to spare the prince. He could have just ordered him to be killed and thrown overboard. But, despite whatever honor standards the Prince values, Hakoda still has his own to abide by.

The boy chose not to kill Tomkin. He didn’t kill him and didn’t burn down the ship. Yes, he did injure Hakoda, but then again, it was his fault for grabbing at a fire bender so carelessly. 

Still, Hakoda just couldn’t wrap his mind around the Fire Nation mentality.

Or at least, whatever mentality the kid seemed to have. 

And what in Tui and La’s name did the prince mean by ‘worthy death’? Was there some sort of list the Fire Lord created that counted all the ‘noble’ ways to die?  
Inwardly, Hakoda was a little concerned. The prince was a child, and already he had such a warped sense of living. 

Hakoda cleared his throat.

“Hold on. Where were you going just now?” 

The kid blinked in surprise, momentarily lost in the bluntness. 

“By any chance,” Hakoda continued bravely, “Were you going to go and jump off the railing? Or was I just so conveniently here that I stopped your suicide attempt?”  
The prince’s eyes glazed with slight panic as he struggled to answer. 

“IT DOESN’T MATTER,” he finally snapped, “Even if I were going to go jumping off, I’d burn down this ship first, so you would all go down with me!”

There it was. 

Another threat to burn down the ship. 

Hakoda leaned back against the wall of the hallway, looking down on the prince with a serious expression. If there was something to be learned about the prince, then this was clearly the first lesson. 

When he feels threatened, he threatens right back. 

Or at least he tries to, and by the looks of it, he was doing it for the first time. His hands were trembling ever so lightly, as if he expected his attempt at strong talk to be punished in some way. It was as if he was looking for a certain outcome to his threats. As if he were trying to achieve someone else’s example.  
Strange, very strange. 

“Why don’t you do it now then? You say you want to die, and you want us to die with you. I’m not a bender. None of my warriors are benders. You are a Fire Nation prince. You clearly have the advantage.” 

Well, if Hakoda wasn’t reckless enough before, he sure was now. He was quite literally playing with fire. A fire that is panicked, cornered, and desperate.  
This was a dangerous game. 

An extremely dangerous game and just a terrible decision overall.  
But there was no taking back his words now. 

He had to know, he had to gage the Prince’s tolerance for ensuing violence. He did not kill Tomkin. In fact, if Tomkin’s story was accurate, the prince did not want to kill him at all. He had hesitated, which was a trait that Hakoda has never seen in a Fire bender before. 

But would he hesitate now? 

He may not be as ruthless as all the fire benders Hakoda has fought before, but he was still Fire Nation. He was still taught and raised by the Fire Lord.  
“Burn me,” Hakoda stated, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

He didn’t even know the prince, didn’t know anything about him or his personality. All that he knew was what he could guess, which was not a pretty reliable way of gaining insight. He could be terribly wrong about the prince, and the boy might indeed take his offer and kill him. 

But then again, if the boy wanted to kill him, he would have already done so, right? The prince did not need permission, and he most certainly did not need to stand there and listen to Hakoda talk. If he wanted to shut him up permanently, he already would have.

Bato would have murdered Hakoda with his bare hands by now for this kind of stupidity. Messing with an angry Fire Nation teenager who almost burnt off your hand yesterday? Reckless, absolutely and horrendously reckless. 

Honestly, he was a chief. He shouldn’t be placing all his doubts and bets on a flimsy hunch. 

But just because he shouldn’t, doesn’t mean he couldn’t. 

He carefully spread out his arms and leaned away from the wall. Looking forward, He stood before the prince, his hands empty of any knife or club.  
He stood there, completely defenseless and vulnerable before a Fire bender.

By his own choice. 

The prince’s good eye widened, and his stance quivered ever so lightly. His hand wavered and reached for his scar, and Hakoda could see fear clouding his face. 

“What--why, would I do that?” 

His gaze instantly snapped back into focus and his fighting stance dropped. 

“You’re not even fighting me, why would I burn you for it?” He said defensively, his eyes reflecting his defiance at Hakoda’s words. 

“Well, why not?” 

Hakoda shrugged, desperately trying to hold back his sigh of relief at still being alive. Perhaps Tomkin wasn’t exaggerating when he said he saw guilt in the ash maker’s eyes. 

Hakoda bit his lip, not knowing why the hell he even decided to test the prince this way. Deep in his head, he knew he should probably stop now. The prince proved that he was humane. That was enough for Hakoda to have minimal regrets about not throwing him overboard. 

But no, he had to keep going. 

“You said that it’s a weakness to not kill an enemy. I’m your enemy, aren’t I? Technically your captor. So what’s holding you back?”

Was he going too far? 

Probably. 

The prince’s breath caught in his throat, and he stared at Hakoda in disbelief. His gaze kept snapping back to the chief’s face, specifically, his eye. The prince kept watching him, and then watching his own hands, as though he knew what he could do, but wouldn’t do. 

Then, as though broken from a trance, he glared at Hakoda. His eyes filled with defensive anger and his mouth spit out sparks of flame. 

“SaVagE!” He yelled, but his voice cracked. 

Embarrassed, the prince spun around and ran back to the infirmary, slamming the door behind him. 

It reminded Hakoda a lot of when Sokka would storm off into his room after an argument. Except for this time the argument was with a Fire Nation royal.  
Hakoda sighed, turning away from the infirmary. 

The prince seemed so focused on keeping his father’s reputation intact. He spoke as though he knew exactly what actions of his were going to bring shame to the Fire Lord. 

It seemed that perhaps the Fire Lord and the prince were rather close if they know each other so well. 

Either way, Hakoda couldn’t keep the prince on his ship forever. 

Perhaps it was time for a ransom letter to the Fire Lord. 

After all, every father would want his son back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I don't think you guys realize just how much your comments absolutely motivate me. Your guys' ideas and thoughts and guesses, they just make me so happy.  
> You guys are the best!


	7. A raven-cat's letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late, I know I missed a week, but I was just so busy. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it. At this point, I don't even know when the next update will be. So, what will be, will be I guess. Thank you for all your support on this fic.

A light brown raven-cat soared across the blue sky, a small white letter taped to its leg. The letter was tied with an elegant blue ribbon, the scent of ocean water still clinging to its cotton ends. The raven cat flew for hours, its small body battling the winds and hot rays of the blazing sun. 

Eventually, it reached the Fire Nation, where its sharp gaze searched for a place to land. His eyes centered on a magnificent palace, with gold decorum and red pillars. He let out a slight screech, alarming the guards below. The men looked up at him, confusion on their faces. 

Why was there a bird with Southern markings? Why did it have soft brown feathers and a blue ribbon? All messenger hawks were a fiery russet, at least all the ones that dared bring letters to the Fire Lord. 

But this raven-cat did not know all the intricacies of royal etiquette, and neither did his master who sent him out. He did not know why he was flying here, for he had no knowledge of human intentions. 

However, he knew his duty was to deliver the message, so he shall do so with no hindrance. 

He flew into a window, landing on the table that was inside. The room was wide and lit with torches, with endless shelves full of books in every direction. Maps and inks and pens were organized upon each drawer, indicating a place of studies. 

A man sat on his throne-like chair, the very image of narcissism and malevolence. Red silk slung over his shoulders and his long black hair was brushed to perfection. His eyes turned sharply towards the raven-cat, and their gold depths instantly centered on the blue ribbon. 

He snorted distastefully, and the raven-cat fidgeted its paws in uncertainty. Ozai reached towards the letter strapped around the cat’s leg and pulled it away with little interest. His gaze slid down toward the unwaxed, unofficial signature of a water chiefsmen. 

Ozai looked at it dully, halving half a mind to simply burn it. And yet, the oddly colloquial heading of the letter made him smirk in amusement. The inaccuracy of the titles and formalities were all but expected of a water savage, and were not at all the standard for Fire Nation writing. 

Yet, his hands remained holding the letter, and his eyes got drawn towards the first paragraph. 

‘Fire Lord Ozai,   
I assume you would be quite shocked to hear from an individual such as myself, but I assure you this is worth your time.   
I have no regard for pleasantries as I write this, so I will make this as brief as possible.   
We have your son.” 

Ozai stopped, his nails digging into the soft paper. He snorted in disgust, letting his frustration out into the empty room. Of course, out of all people, Zuko would manage to get himself captured. He always managed to do things other than impress, which was not surprising in the least. But what displeased Ozai the most was that the savage was alive when he wrote the letter. Azula wouldn’t have given the chief that chance. 

Yes, Azula is quite talented in that way. Of course, she would never have burned the ship completely. No, she values her own life and needs far too much. She would have undoubtedly killed the chief, burned him to crisp long before he could even touch the quill. She takes great pride in her reputation, and would quicker slit a throat with her bare nails before seeing it tarnished. 

It was kind of funny in that way, too, Ozai thought. 

He leaned back on the chair, staring at the letter in his hand. 

Zuko would do anything to get his honor and reputation back as well. Except, he never seemed desperate enough to kill someone. In fact, for as far back as Ozai cared to remember, Zuko never hurt anything. No matter how much he got hurt for showing such a weakness, he never quit showing it. 

It was not as if Ozai cared, but it was still interesting to think about. 

He sent Zuko out on a fool’s mission, and yet he did not seem fazed. Ozai would have expected his son to abandon the punishment, or run away, or do literally anything else but stay. And yet, he stayed. He anchored himself to the rusty ship that was given to him and relentlessly started to search for the avatar. 

Each week Zuko would send back reports of what he had done, which weren’t all that impressive to Ozai. He never read the letters to begin with, but after recent...nightmares, he decided otherwise. He read a few every now and then and was always rather disappointed. The letters detailed his travels and locations, where he went and what he did. But he never wrote about any victories, or battles, or anything that Azula would have written about if she was in his place. 

He never burnt any villages, or sunk any ships, or killed any enemies. 

Disappointing. 

But there was one small detail that stayed consistent. Ozai wouldn’t have liked to admit it, but it was rather impressive. 

Zuko was still loyal to him. 

He realized this a while back, but it never seemed as admirable as it did now. Zuko did not have a reason to stay alive. Unlike Azula, he can burn down the ship and drown knowing he had nothing else to lose. He simply did not have anything else to do. He was banished, burned, dishonored, and quite frankly, Ozai would have expected Zuko to know that he hated him by now. Ozai never responded to his letters or even bothered to remind himself of Zuko’s presence.

And yet, Zuko kept writing, kept trying to impress him. 

He did not know how to feel about that. 

He wasn’t flattered, he had no need to be. After all, he had stuck up generals trying to lick his boots all the time. It wasn’t love, or concern, or anything really. And even if it was love, how was he supposed to know how that felt like? He’s never expressed it, never had a reason to express it. 

No, he didn’t love Zuko. He just...saw his usefulness? 

No, that wasn’t right either. Zuko was as weak and useless as a dirty mop on the floor. It was something besides that. 

If Zuko had been useful, then he would have been sailing around conquering cities and colonies in Ozai’s name. He would have killed and raided, and he would have had the sense to follow violent orders. He would have done things like Azula; carrying out Ozai’s every command. 

But he didn’t do that. Well, sure, he followed the banishment order, but besides that he did nothing. 

And yet despite Zuko’s many shortcomings, he was undoubtedly loyal. 

Ozai sighed, trying to ignore the small twinge of guilt that knotted in his stomach. Perhaps, if he had been just a little more patient, he could have made Zuko into something better.

He could have taught him to be more like himself, to teach him the ways of war and discipline. 

Then at least he would’ve been doing something other than feeding turtle ducks and chasing the water savage all day. 

But then again, was that all that Ozai wanted Zuko for? To transform him into a copy of Azula? 

No, not Azula. He knew what Azula was like. She cared for only herself, and would not hesitate to betray her father if it benefited her. But Zuko, he knows nothing of betrayal and selfishness. He is devoted fully to the Fire Nation and the Fire Lord. True, he was weak and impulsive, but Ozai could work with that. 

He could become just as vicious as Azula, except all that fury will be shown through loyalty. Yes, Ozai did like the sound of that. He knew all his generals and lieutenants could abandon him. They feared him, they obeyed him, but they felt no loyalty towards him. All of them, except his son. 

He needed to get Zuko back as quickly as possible. He needed to start working, to start shaping Zuko before he slipped away. 

And he already had a plan in mind. 

He snatched up the Water tribesman’s paper and quickly glanced it over.

The chief’s demands were of no significance to Ozai’s whatsoever. Regardless, he still read through them, as he needed to write out some time-buying response. They were quite basic, and it was evident that the chief had no ulterior gameplay. Free the Southern warriors in the prison, withdraw a few fronts, etc, etc...

He didn’t bother to read any further. He didn’t need to. The chief would be dead within a few days. Or at least, imprisoned along with the rest of his pathetic crew. Ozai reached for the latest letter that Zuko had sent him, skimming along the lines until he reached his written location. 

The paper was written but a couple of days before, so the chances of it being accurate would be rather high. He would send out a small fleet to capture the water tribe ship, using the very location that Zuko had provided. The Southern savages were still probably nearby, so they wouldn’t be hard to find. 

He brought out his own piece of paper, and with a smug, complacent look on his face, began writing pure lies. 

Sure, he will give in to a couple of the Chief’s demands. He will not give in to all of them, as it had to be realistic, but some at the very least.

He’ll send a few supplies as well. His fleets had plenty to spare. 

Where would he like to trade his son? At a neutral port? After all, it was his game, so he can set the rules…

Ozai smirked, letting hot wax drip onto the scrolled paper. 

He then looked up at the raven cat, which was washing its paws patiently. 

“Come here, love. I’ve got something I want you to do.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zuko sat in the ship’s infirmary, fuming hot rage on the inside. 

He wasn’t even sure what he was upset about, but regardless he felt frustrated. It wasn’t the type of frustration where he couldn’t get a form right, or when uncle would constantly berate him with tea. 

No, it was a kind of frustration where he felt helpless. Where he felt like he had no control over himself whatsoever. The chief had stood there, right in front of him, as defenseless a mouse-shrew in an open field. Why did he stay in front of him like that? 

Zuko groaned, narrowing his eyes at the wall in front of his face. 

The chief was strange. He wasn’t even trying to act like a captor, in fact, not the slightest attempt was even made. Instead, it was as if the chief was the one acting like a captive. He told Zuko to burn him, to kill him. It was as if he was challenging Zuko’s very nationality. 

He didn’t like that. 

The chief wasn’t even armed. And yet, he all but gave an invitation to be killed. Zuko’s hand reached for his scar, feeling the familiar burned flesh around his eye. 

He knew what helplessness felt like. He knew what it was like to have no way to defend himself and yet be hurt anyway. He couldn’t do the same to the chief. 

As much as the man’s actions frustrated him, he just couldn’t bring himself to burn the latter. Well, to be fair, he already burned his hand, but that was on impulse. What the chief was asking of him was meant to be intentional. 

He knew that killing the savage was what his father would have wanted of him. It was what Azula would have done as well. But, despite knowing what he should have done, he still couldn’t fathom ending a life. 

Especially a life that so closely reminded him of Kya’s. 

Yes, Kya, a water tribe woman who was his friend since he was eight. They were close, at least as close as a water savage and a prince were allowed to be. She often told him about her life back at the South pole, where the snow was crystal white and the air crisp like mint. 

She would talk fondly about her husband and her children that she left behind, and Zuko would always feel guilty that she was not with them anymore. He used to tell her that when he grows up, he will sail her back home. That he will reunite her with her husband.

She would laugh at that. 

She would look at his tiny, eight-year-old self, and politely entertain him with that idea. But Zuko knew she didn’t actually have faith in returning home. But Zuko always told her that she would…

She saw him every day. She was there to comfort him when Azula bullied him, or when Zuko would have nightmares about his mother. 

She saw...everything.

Even how he got his scar. 

She shouldn’t have seen that, she shouldn’t have been there. But like the mother figure that she became to him, she wanted to see the Agni Kai. She wanted to make sure that Zuko wouldn’t get hurt. 

But he did, and Kya was powerless to help him. 

Everyone was powerless against the Fire Lord. Even his uncle couldn’t bring himself to rush out into the plaza and fight Ozai instead. 

That would have been treason. 

Zuko sighed, remembering how he woke up to both Uncle and Kya with him. He felt ashamed that despite her staying with him, he still did not sail her back home as he promised. 

He had two years to do it, and yet he was so hellbent on finding the avatar, that he’s completely forgotten what’s really important. 

Now she was probably back at the Fire Nation, where all unowned savage slaves go. He knew that Uncle couldn’t take care of her, as she did not technically belong to him. However, Zuko had no doubts that uncle would at least try. He wouldn’t give up, and he would wait for Zuko to come back for as long as it took. 

That is unless he thought Zuko was dead. But Zuko did not want to ponder that possibility. He would stay alive, he would find a way to escape this ship. 

And when he did, damned be the avatar. He had his whole life to find that walking fairytale. No, instead, he will fulfill his long-standing promise. He would reunite Kya and her husband, whoever he may be. He will bring her back to her family. 

And then, knowing he has done what’s right, he will freely seek his honor. He will get back to his father and earn back his title and place as heir.

He will become what he was expected to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My My My, I wonder how this will all come together. Any guesses? Write them down in the comments.


	8. The Admiral's Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As some of you have noticed, I have posted Chapter 8 a couple of days ago and then deleted it. I have done it so I could make the chapter longer and edit it for any errors. Either way, here's chapter 8, hope you enjoy it!!!!
> 
> Also, some of you are a little frustrated that Zuko has slaves (only Kya) and didn't free her. Well, you see, if he had, she wouldn't meet Hakoda in the Fire Nation. Plot convenience.......trust me, together, they just might ditch Ozai ;3

“Hakoda!” 

Tomkin barged into Hakoda’s cabin, breathless from running down the hallways. Hakoda looked up confusedly, his gaze searching Tomkin’s panicked face. 

“Woah there, calm down, What is it?”

Tomkin shook his head and gestured wildly, panting like a hunted dog. 

“There--ships--a lot of--we’re doomed--!” 

Hakoda got up and walked over to Tomkin, placing his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. He waited patiently until the young warrior caught his breath, after which he repeated his question. 

“What’s wrong? Did Nanook eat your jerky again?” He chuckled slightly, but the fear on Tomkin’s face made him twitch anxiously. 

“There is an entire Fire Nation fleet surrounding us. They just came out of nowhere, we’re--we’re so, so, terribly outnumbered…” 

Hakoda felt a jolt of realization pierce through him. Of course, how could he have been so daft? He was so calm when the Fire Lord sent his response, but now he knew it was all just to buy time. Of course, the Fire Lord wouldn’t just sit and give in to Hakoda’s demands. He would want his son back. 

And the only way Ozai gets what he wants is by force. 

He should have known that. Should have at least guessed it. 

And now he was like a rat in a trap. He placed his entire crew in danger, and they didn’t even know that he had sent any sort of letter! 

He ran out of his office, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. He ran past the infirmary, which to his misfortune, was empty. 

The Fire prince must have taken advantage of the crew’s panic and snuck on deck. And now the Fire Nation captains would see him and know that he was indeed here. 

Now nothing will stop the prince from burning down the ship. He had his captains, the fleet, and his father’s blessing to kill. 

Hakoda burst onto the deck, where sure enough, the prince stood against the rail, looking out to the fleet surrounding them. 

The warriors were armed and spread around, but they did not dare to touch Zuko. Not with all the captains with their spyglasses and flamethrowers in front. All eyes were on this water tribe ship.

A ship that seemed so small compared to the metal monstrosities of ships. 

The prince turned to look at Hakoda, a small spark of dread shining in his eyes. 

“My father would never do this. He must want something from me.” 

Wait, what? 

The Fire lord cared for his son, didn’t he? That is why he sent an entire fleet to rescue him. He loved him. But, the prince did not seem to think so. Why is that? With that one statement, Hakoda had a sudden awareness that he didn’t think he liked. 

That first time he met Zuko, the prince had said that he’d rather die than dishonor his father. Was their relationship so materialistic and selfish that they only did something so they could get something in return?  
Did Fire Lord Ozai only care for Zuko because of something Zuko could do? Because Zuko could die for him, he wanted him? 

Well, all commanders loved loyal soldiers, but this was too much. 

No, it can’t be. Zuko must be exaggerating. There was no way a father would have so little of an emotional connection to his son. 

Hakoda was snapped out of daze as he heard a yell from one of the Fire Nation ships. 

His blood ran cold as he saw a man in bright red armor, with his wolfish eyes and black hair, motion across the water. His ship maneuvered itself near their little wooden vessel and shot metal spikes towards its rails. 

A few shouts and a metal bridge later, the man was standing in front of the prince, his sluggish grin casting excitement into his eyes. 

“Admiral Zhao.” The prince hissed, forcing himself to hide his dread in his stance. 

“Let’s not make a scene, shall we, Prince Zuko?” Zhao began slowly, his tone the very definition of a predatory manevolence.

“You have already embarrassed your Nation enough by being captured by savages. Would be a shame, If, for some reason, you appear to want to stay here with them.” 

It was a statement not meant to be heard, but years of hunting in the South pole has done miracles to Hakoda’s hearing. He desperately tried to appear as if he wasn’t listening, but on the inside he was perplexed. 

Was this the normal way an admiral spoke to a prince of the Fire Nation? If his memory didn’t fail him, then Hakoda was sure that the Fire Nation had a very strict chain of command. It is always yes sir, or no sir, and no in-between. And certainly no blatant disrespect for their superiors. 

What was this Admiral doing? And why in Tui and La’s name, was the prince taking it? He is a prince, the son of the strongest man in all the nations. 

Granted, he was exiled, but still. How is such harassment acceptable? Unless the admiral is taking an example from someone higher up. After all, if the most superior person in the army is treating the prince disrespectfully, then that means everyone can do it. 

But who is so high up that he can escape The Fire Lord’s wrath? It’s his son, after all. 

Unless…

Hakoda glanced away. No, no no no...he is not about to feel sympathy for a fire prince. Especially not one whose country is responsible for the death of his beloved Kya and the destruction of Southern culture. 

“Take your Prince and leave,” Hakoda said firmly, straightening his shoulders and leveling his club. 

Perhaps this Admiral might be a reasonable one. If all it took was to give Zuko back to his father to keep his crew safe, then he would do so. 

“I am afraid it’s not that simple, dear chief.” the Admiral sneered, his eyes lighting up with excitement. 

“You and your crew are under arrest, for the kidnapping of the Prince of the Fire Nation, son of our Fire Lord Ozai, attempted bribery and ransom, and for the resistance of our capital justice.” 

“Your crimes are worthy of no other fate but worse than death”  
Hakoda gasped as the soldiers aboard the Admiral’s ship flooded onto Hakoda’s deck, lining up behind the Admiral in a great show of superiority. 

Hakoda looked around in a panic, his gaze searching the faces of his friends. Should they fight? Should they resist? His attention snapped back to the Admiral.

Truly a beast, not a man he was. Within those gold eyes, he could see the reflection of the fate of which he spoke. 

Slavery in the Fire Nation. 

Honestly, he was starting to find sense in Zuko’s mentality. He too suddenly had an urge to pick death over dishonor.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------

Zuko walked along with the Chief on the metal bridge, not sure whether he should be happy or upset. 

His captor was now captive, his fate to be the property of the royal family. 

But, despite the justice which he knows he should see, Zuko also knows that the water warriors do not deserve it. 

True, they did technically kidnap him and keep him trapped on their ship. But then again, they also did rescue him from dying in the cold waters of the ocean. 

They didn’t abuse him, per se. But they also did not have too good of intentions either. They were going to ransom him off, use him as a bargaining tool with his father. 

And even if it wasn’t with his father, he was sure that the Chief would have bargained with someone else.  
But then again, why should he care what happened to the water savages? Azula would never, and Father, well, he would have nothing to care about because he would have burned the savages himself. 

No, he really shouldn’t care about Hakoda. 

But, he is the chief of the Southern Water tribe.

What would become of the South pole if their Chief was gone? Did he even have a successor? They already didn't have any water benders left. If the South Pole breaks down, then Kya would have nothing to come back to. 

How would he tell her that the Fire Nation broke the South Pole forever? Would he even tell her at all? 

Would he lie to her? 

And what about Father? Why did he suddenly want him back? 

None of this made sense. Sometimes he wished he could read people like Azula. At least then, he would know what was happening around him. 

He walked up the bridge and onto the deck, where he was led into his own room. 

To his surprise, Zhao followed him, shoving Hakoda into the room as well. 

“What are you doing?” Zuko hissed. 

Zhao grinned like a dog and raised his hand in mock innocence. 

“Don’t mind me, your highness. I simply figured that since you have such experience with water savage slaves, you should have this one. You are after all, so attracted to their filth.” 

Of course, Zuko thought. He still hates me for stealing Kya from him. After all, she was supposed to be his...

Zuko saw Hakoda glance confusedly between him and Zhao, not saying anything when the Admiral slammed the door closed. 

Zuko let his hand fall to his side, turning away to look out the cabin’s window. On the glass, he could make out the faint reflection of the Chief standing behind him. 

“Experience, huh?” The chief said tiredly. 

“How many of my people have been taken advantage of by yours? And how many have been taken advantage of by you? Water benders. Earth benders. Non-benders.” 

“You’re too young to be so cruel, Prince Zuko.” 

Zuko slammed his hand on the table in front of him, watching as the Chief’s reflection didn’t even flinch. 

“What do you know about cruelty?” He snapped, “About giving it, receiving it?” 

His scar twitched, sending burning sensations through his entire body. For a moment, he was thrown back in time, to that one battle in which he so dishonorably begged. Fire leaped up in his mouth, spilling out in sparks of rage and pain. 

His hands shook on the table, his nails digging into its surface. 

“My whole life,” He growled, “I have all but received it, and not just from my enemies, but from the people closest to me. Never once have I returned it, not to them, or to anyone.” 

He glanced up at the Chief’s reflection, besides which was the reflection of his own face, bound and marred by the scar. 

“And you think you can tell me who I am just by looking at me? Do you think you know what my life consisted of just by judging me? No, I think you’re the cruel one, Hakoda.” 

Silence waged war between them, making the air crackle with tension. Zuko didn’t even know why he had snapped this way, or why he even allowed himself to break his demeanor in front of this chief. 

Whatever the reason, his presence reminded him of Kya. It was a strange comparison, but something about the way he just listened and understood, made Zuko want to tell him even more. 

“You could say that about anyone.” 

Zuko whirled around, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the Chief staring directly at him. 

“I lost my wife in the war. And my kids lost their mother. Cruelty really is everywhere.” 

“But I must ask, how many?” 

“One,” Zuko answered, his face flushing. 

“And even then, she’s from my childhood. Said she lost her husband.” 

He curtly turned away, feeling embarrassed at the display of emotion. 

“You might meet her, when we get back to the Capital.” 

He was tired. He just yelled at a savage, spilled his emotions, and was probably on his way to even more disapproval from his father.  
This day was too long.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Kya paced around the entrance of Zuko’s room, not sure what to think. Through the window, she could see soldiers lining up around the harbor, their whole purpose to meet their prince when he arrives. 

Although Kya should have been happy that Zuko was getting a welcoming parade, she couldn’t stop feeling skeptical. Fire Lord Ozai would never greet Zuko this way, least of all, announce his son’s arrival for all of the Fire Nation to hear. It sounded very much like a trap, and Kya did not like it. 

But, knowing Zuko, he would probably get carried away with the sight of the parade. It was a welcome that he had been deprived of for two whole years, and Kya wouldn’t blame him if he felt happy when he arrived. But regardless, she would try her best to warn him, even if he would brush away all her concerns. 

Prince Zuko was like that. He only saw what he wanted to see, always striving towards the impossible quest of finding the avatar. If there was even the slightest doubt of ever finding the avatar, he would brush it off. He became more distant, more centered around this fairytale quest. 

And now that he thinks his father wants him back--

He’ll want to please him even more. 

Through the mist of the horizon, Kya could see the faint outline of a ship. Panic hit her as she scrambled away from the window and down the stairs of the palace. Tripping over her skirt, she prayed that no guards would see her. 

She ran towards the harbor, stopping only when she stumbled out onto the docks. The parade had already started, and she could see Zuko walking down the bridge of the ship. 

His eyes had lit up in excitement, looking like an eagle-cat with a fresh catch of fish. 

His eyes centered on her immediately, as he raised up a hand in a greeting.

“Kya! Isn’t this wonderful?” 

“Yes, yes, it is,” she absentmindedly began, her eyes gazing worriedly around the parade. 

“What is wrong? Are you alright?”

Kya snapped out of her stupor and looked back at Zuko. 

“Zuko, listen, I don’t think this parade is for you.” 

Zuko’s eyes darkened as he slowly stepped away from Kya’s embrace. He glanced around the gathering crowd and the dazzling fire lights. His eyes slipped over the dancing dragons and the guards marching down the street. Confusion spilled into his golden depths, as he turned back to stare at Kya in dismay. 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

Kya bit her lip. 

“You know the Fire Lord would not do this. It’s--It’s a manipulation, don’t you see? I think--” 

“Do not be daft, Kya” Zuko snapped, his tone picking up the thinnest hints of anger. 

“It’s a fine day, fine for a parade in my honor. Do not ruin my father’s love for me. Not today.” 

He stepped away, sparks flying out of his mouth. 

Kya looked down, wishing that Zuko could have met Hakoda. It just seemed like such a depression situation, a son who loves but won’t be loved. She wished she could just make him see Ozai’s corruption, but unfortunately, Zuko is much too stubborn. Hakoda would have done a better job of this setting. Yes, he would’ve made Zuko realize what an evil man Ozai truly is. 

But he isn’t here, he is fighting in the war. Somewhere out on the battlefront. 

“By the way,” Zuko gruffed, “there’s someone new that you should meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY MY MY how do you think Hakoda is going to react to meeting Kya? How do you think he's going to react to Ozai greeting his son whom he has exiled?????
> 
> How is Ozai going to react to the scar on Zuko's face? Remember in the previous chapter, Ozai said that he hadn't actually seen the damage he had done to Zuko's face in person. Will he be guilty? Smug? Sad? Or is Ozai even capable of sadness? 
> 
> Don't be shy, let your guesses go wild.


	9. "Warm Welcome"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So I know I haven't uploaded in a while, but is because I've been super busy. I barely have the time to really sit down and write. However, I absolutely love this fic and I am intent on finishing it. So here's chapter 9, I hope you like it! I don't know when I'll update next, but rest assured, it will be updated sometime.

“Um, Hello??” 

Hakoda turned around, his gaze searching the room around him. He knew he was supposed to meet Prince Zuko’s other water captive. He was alone, in Prince Zuko’s own room. How he was allowed to stay here he did not know, but he was glad at least, that he was not in some dim old dungeon. Prince Zuko himself, however, had run off into the parade like a leopard cub. He hadn’t looked like a royal that was used to such festivities. In fact, as Hakoda had observed, he looked more like a clueless child. It almost seemed as if the Prince didn’t know what to do with the event, save for indulging in it while it lasted. It was as if he was starved for that kind of attention. 

But, then again, he probably received such welcomes all the time. But if he did, would Zuko acted so lost? 

Regardless, he decided to focus on the meeting before him. He looked about the room, his eyes stopping at the open door of his room. He saw a pair of sandals peeking out from the doorframe, and a small edge of a dress flickering in and out of sight. 

Was it a woman? Prince Zuko hadn’t talked much about that. Worriedly, he wondered what she might have gone through. This was the Fire Nation, full of hungry men with violent intentions. True, Prince Zuko did not seem to be the type to violate women, but no one knew for sure. 

“I’m…here.” Hakoda answered, “There is no need to fear me. I’m just as much of a prisoner here as you are.”

A moment of silence passed. 

“I’m not scared of you, sir.” 

“Forgive me for not coming into view, I’m just taken aback by the familiarity of your voice.” 

Hakoda let out a soft sigh.  
“You do not have to see me to talk to me. Why don’t we have a conversation while the Prince is...well, doing whatever he is doing.” 

A tinge of anger laced his tone, as he remembered how he, along with that Admiral Zhao had taken over his ship. 

A small laugh carried itself from the door. Hakoda shuddered at the strange attachment he suddenly had to it. 

“You sound as if you are angry with him. I don’t blame you of course, but Prince Zuko is a good man.” 

Hakoda scoffed.

“If taking slaves and burning down cities are good things, then I don’t want to know what you consider bad things to be. I’m sorry, but I fail to see how you can describe him that way.” 

“Prince Zuko is a strange one. He doesn’t express emotions the way others do. But, he cares a lot. He wants to get me home, and I’m sure he would want to get you home as well.” 

“And you believe that?” Hakoda asked, confusion amidst sarcasm tinging his voice. Somehow, despite the strange pity and compassion he discovered in himself for the prince, he still found it hard to believe the woman’s claim. 

“Yes.” 

“If what he proposed was true, how come he still hasn’t done it? He has already taken many sailing expeditions. I think he’s just deceiving you.” 

“He doesn’t know how to deceive, sir. He knows how to hide his emotions and lash out in anger, but I don’t blame him for it. Did you know he was just a child when the Fire Lady disappeared? He was very close to her.”

“And do you know what the Fire Lord did when that happened? Nothing much, I can tell you that. No comfort came from him, no compassion or understanding. He was as stoic as always. But, I don’t think he was mourning during that time. I don’t think he knows how to mourn.” 

Hakoda sucked in a breath. He hadn’t known that part of the story. But, judging by how much the woman knew, she probably lived in the Fire Nation for a long time. The prince, however…

My whole life, the prince’s words echoed through his head, I have all but received cruelty. I never once returned it. To anyone.” 

Hakoda’s previous speculations flooded into his mind. He remembered how the Admiral treated the Prince, how much the prince was scared when he saw his fellow Fire Nation ships across the water. 

He was so scared when he thought that being held by savages was going to dishonor him. Well, not him precisely, but his father. 

“What the hell didn’t you kill me for? Do you want to humiliate me for losing to you? Well great job, you accomplished that! Now kill me, murder me, drown me.”

He hadn’t thought much about that. The way it sounded, so desperate, so...well Hakoda couldn’t really describe it. At first, he had assumed that Fire Lord Ozai wanted his son back because he cared about him. That was right, wasn’t it? He had sent out a fleet to search for Prince Zuko and he had captured his captors. But, that wasn’t really affected, was it? 

Hakoda bit his lip, cursing his compassion. Who was he feeling sorry for? The Fire Prince, the man who’s country took everything from him. A country that desolated the South Pole. 

But then again, could he really blame a teenager for all of his countries misdeeds? For, if he hadn’t been a prince, could he really be considered responsible for the actions of the Fire Nation? No, he couldn’t. Had he been a regular Fire Nation child, Hakoda might have been less biased. 

To have a father, who just didn’t care when a child’s mother disappeared. To receive no comfort from anyone, not even from those closest to you. To be scarred and left...and...wait…..

Scarred? 

“Prince Zuko probably has attacked others before,” Hakoda thought out loud, “else, why would he have a scar? He might not be as kind as you think he is.” 

The woman shuffled her weight away from the door, turning around so that she was fully in view. She pushed her hair behind her ear and glanced up earnestly. 

Hakoda’s jaw dropped. 

“Kya? Kya?! No, no, it can’t be.” He glanced away. 

She looked at him, momentarily losing her previous purpose. She looked him up and down, her eyes scouring every inch of his appearance. 

“Hakoda?”

“No Hakoda, look at me, it is me! Oh, do you not recognize me?” 

She ran up to him, tears already streaming down her face, as she embracing him tightly. 

“Do you not recognize me?” she repeated, her sobs breaking up her voice. Hakoda looked down at her in astonishment and disbelief, carefully raising his hands to hug her. 

“No, I-- I thought you were dead! We all thought you were dead! Sokka, Katara, the whole village…” 

“You were alive? This whole time? With Prince Zuko?” 

Tears poured down his cheeks and soaked onto her hair, as she burrowed her face into his shirt. 

“I was talking to you this whole time??” Shock ran through his body, as he still couldn’t grasp the miracle before him. 

“Yes, yes, I was, and it was so terrible at first,” she sobbed, finally raising up her eyes to look at him. She cupped his face, trying to wipe away his own tears. 

“But Hakoda,” she sniffed, “You’re right. Prince Zuko did get his scar from a fight, but not in a way you think.”

She looked down, sadness flittering over her gaze.

“It was from his own father.” 

\------------------------------------------

Ozai was willing to make a sacrifice. At least for the good of his purposes. Instead of sitting upon his throne, he decided to look for Zuko himself. 

It wasn’t because he wanted to, but because he was far too impatient to get to work. Who knows what Zuko’s mind might be filled with at this time. He had to capture this moment, this ideal moment when Zuko can be turned around and brought back to the Fire Nation mentality. 

Hopefully, Iroh had not done too much damage to him. 

Ozai walked to the entrance of his throne room, flinging open the curtains in his usual angry manner. But alas, the cruel irony was not done with him yet. 

He stumbled into Zuko, who, unbeknownst to him, was standing right behind the door. He cursed under his breath, momentarily losing his demeanor. When he managed to regain his composure, his eyes fell onto his son’s face. 

And good Agni, this was not what he was expecting. 

Well, it was...but…

Ozai sucked in a breath, not sure how to react. He hadn’t seen the damage he had done to Zuko’s face since the day he was banished. In fact, even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t, the doctors could not take off the bandages for weeks. 

He traced the dark red outline with his eyes, feeling slightly unsettled by the revolting ugliness that stared back at him. His son was nowhere near the image of a prince. A real prince would have been the image of cruelty and malicious calmness, with not a single scratch or burn to mark his failures. Polished, still, and dangerous. 

But as he stared into Zuko’s face, all he could see was fear and sluggish compliance. His eyes weren’t cold, they were...not right...not what Ozai wanted to see. 

He couldn’t quite describe it. But that didn’t matter. He could fix it.

He could fix him., fix his flaws. 

But right now, he needed to get Zuko on his side. Ozai grinned wolfishly, his gold eyes gleaming with newfound purpose. 

Before Zuko could see the deception in his eyes, he hugged him tightly, digging his nails slightly into the fabric of Zuko’s shirt. His son tensed, but Ozai did not let go. Instead, he knew exactly how to react. 

“Tell me you did not come back sooner,” He said remorsefully, his tone betraying no intentions. Ozai smiled behind Zuko’s back as he felt the effect of those words settling in. 

“Why did you not come back? I wanted to see you.” 

Zuko pushed away from him, his eyes wide with disbelief. Ozai’s face softened with sadness as he gazed down at him. 

“But father, you exiled me! I did not dare come here again.” Zuko fidgeted, looking down at the floor. Suddenly, he froze, as if he just got caught in the most fatal of crimes. 

He dropped down to the floor in a formal bow, not looking up for a split second as he did so.

“Oh Zuko,” Ozai said, looking down on him, “You have such loyalty.”

“Come now, we have a lot to do.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hakoda stared hard into the training arena, his gaze colder than it ever was before. There, out in the courtyard, Lord Ozai was teaching his son how to fight. Of course, Hakoda wouldn't have had a problem with that if it wasn’t for one little detail…

Ozai wasn’t looking to improve his relationship with Zuko, he was looking for a way to get himself a weapon. The things he taught, the things he said, it made Hakoda shiver with distaste. Prince Zuko himself seemed to be listening to Ozai’s every word with all the attention in the world. Which in itself, looked to be completely out of character for the young prince. 

It was as if he was so starved for Lord Ozai’s approval that he wanted to do everything in his power to please him. Hakoda thought back to Kya’s words, to her account of that fateful Agni Kai. Honestly, Hakoda would never have believed that story if he had heard it from someone else. 

But, seeing as how the Firelord had no issue ordering armies to commit genocides, he probably had no issue burning his son. Regardless, Hakoda had to admit that the man was talented. Very, very, talented. 

No matter how much the Firelord was frustrated at Zuko, he always managed to control himself. If anything, he purposefully made the efforts to compliment Zuko whenever possible. It was such a blatant manipulation that Hakoda was surprised that Zuko couldn’t see it. 

The Firelord, it seemed, knew exactly what he wanted.

Hakoda huffed, silently cursing the Firelord’s skill at eloquent speech. 

The chief leaned forward, trying to hear what the two were talking about. He knew that no matter how much he hated the Fire Nation, he still could not let a young teenager get exploited by his own father. Damn be the difference in cultures or what else because this little prince needed him. 

“You are going to help me rule the Fire Nation one day,” Ozai said, “It is very important that you do not let feeble emotions get in the way of making the right decisions.”  
Hakoda caught the Prince nodding furiously while Ozai slipped his gaze away from him. It was almost as if Ozai did not even acknowledge Zuko’s presence. True, he spoke to him, he taught him, but he did not look at him more than once. He looked at his bending, he looked at his fighting stances, but never at his face. 

Hakoda was not sure whether it was smug disrespect or some form of guilt at the scar he had made. Although Hakoda would have liked to think that the Firelord felt shame at what he had done, he knew he probably didn’t.

No, no, Hakoda would not allow Ozai to walk around feeling no shame at his crimes. He needed to confront him, to shove his fist into that smug royal face of his. He glanced up, seeing the training session at its end. Fire Lord Ozai walked away, ignoring Hakoda as he stood, rigid, at the entrance to the courtyard. 

Instinctively, Hakoda ducked away from the entrance and followed Ozai down the hallway, praying that he wouldn’t turn around. Adrenaline rushed through him as followed the man into his room, internally screaming at himself to run while he still could. 

Alas, Bato was right. He was too brash and too stubborn. Hakoda quickly hid himself behind a large cabinet, watching as the door to the Fire Lord’s chambers closed. He knew there was no going back on this impulsive quest. Hakoda peeked around the corner at the Fire Lord, whose back was turned towards his hiding place. 

The smile which was present during Zuko’s training melted away, leaving behind a cold and stoic expression. 

“You have made a mistake following me in here,” he said.

Hakoda’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Savage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY MY MY here comes the confrontation! How do you all think this will go down??? Will Ozai admit he was wrong in banishing Zuko? Will Hakoda succeed in slapping the Fire Lord at least once? Or will Hakoda just grab Zuko by the scuff and drag him out of the Fire Nation? 
> 
> And most importantly....will Azula cash in her favor with Zuko? As you guys know, in chapter two, it was revealed that in order to keep Kya, Zuko had to ask Azula for a favor. Azula still had not asked for that favor back. Suspicious isn't it??????


	10. I’m Sorry Guys

Hey guys, due to personal reasons, I am not finishing this fic. I don’t really have much time for it, and I don’t think I can keep updating it. Anyways, thank you all for reading it this far.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!!! Chapter 2 is where the actual fun begins, it might be out tomorrow, or Thursday. I might come up with a proper schedule later on. Please comment, it'll really make my day. I'll reply to as many as I can.


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